


Am I A Good Person?

by amooniesong



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Dadza in full force tonight, Dadza loves you, Dadza will give you a hug if you need it, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Insecurity, Late Night Conversations, One Shot, T rating is for swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:55:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27053776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amooniesong/pseuds/amooniesong
Summary: Tommyinnit, sent 01:47: Do you think I’m a good person, or is this all just an act?------------------Being a teenager sucks. Having someone to talk to makes it suck a little bit less.
Relationships: TommyInnit & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 74
Kudos: 1034
Collections: Completed stories I've read, MCYT Fic Rec





	Am I A Good Person?

Being a teenager fucking  _ sucked _ .

Tommy was smart, he could say a lot of things with certainty: he was funny; he had over a million subscribers on YouTube; he did alright at school; he had brilliant friends. All of those things he  _ knew _ , they were  _ facts _ , and he was confident in adding  _ being a teenager fucking sucks  _ to the list of things that he could say with certainty.

The reason he felt that way now was because of the darkness clawing at his chest, the crippling insecurity about the worries for the future that were gnawing away at him and keeping him from closing his eyes and sleeping. If he mentioned it to his parents he was sure they’d say something about how he stared at his monitors long into the night, how the blue light from his phone was keeping him from sleeping and how being overtired would make him feel bad, but he knew that wasn’t it. He’d be on his phone for hours each night talking with Tubbo, Wilbur, Techno and Phil. So long as he’d done his homework, streamed, and edited, he would spend as much time as possible with them and he’d be happy. Their interactions being on a screen that emitted blue light changed  _ none  _ of that - they were his friends, they made him happy.

He supposed that was why he didn’t feel happy.

Technoblade hadn’t come online - he’d been doing MCC practice on his own (perfectly valid, Tommy would never stop him from doing that). Tubbo had been doing homework (an important thing to do, and Tommy would never ask him to stop doing something so responsible to talk to him). Wilbur had been streaming Among Us (a game that Tommy didn’t particularly enjoy, so he hadn’t been invited to play - completely understandable, it was hard to play the game properly with a frustrated sixteen year old throwing). Phil had been… Doing grown up things, Tommy presumed. He was the oldest of them all, he was twice Tommy’s age and had a life of his own. He had a wife, a home, he was exactly what Tommy would assume a grown up looked like (not to say that Wilbur and Technoblade  _ weren’t  _ grown ups, just that… Well, they  _ weren’t  _ grown ups like Phil).

He’d been alone all evening once he’d finished his work and he realised that without his friends he didn’t really have anything to pass the time. He’d been left with his thoughts, lying on his bed and staring at the ceiling until it became difficult to tell the difference between having his eyes open or shut. It was dark, he knew that a decent chunk of time had passed since he’d first laid down in bed and he didn’t feel tired. Lying there unable to sleep would be unproductive, checking Twitter would be a  _ bad idea _ when he already felt awful, so instead he moved himself over to his computer and clicked open discord.

Tubbo and Phil were offline, and Technoblade and Wilbur were both on  _ do not disturb _ (which Tommy knew better than to go against). Wilbur still appeared to be streaming and while he could load up Twitch and watch him, he had a feeling that seeing his friends having fun without him would only serve to make the ache in his chest worse. Without being able to pinpoint exactly where it had come from - only able to assign it to  _ stupid teenage hormones _ \- he felt as though he had to ride the feelings out. It didn’t excite him, but he didn’t feel as though he was left with much of a choice.

Rather than sit in complete silence he swallowed, clicking on Phil’s icon on discord and opening up their private messages. Normally they all spoke in calls, and when they texted it was usually in a group. His private messages with Phil were few and far between, the last dated over two months ago and asking if he was joining a call for a recording. 

_ Tommyinnit, sent 01:47: Do you think I’m a good person, or is this all just an act? _

He hadn’t thought about the message when he’d typed it or hit send, but reading the words back to himself they felt as though they made sense. It was late at night - or early in the morning - and Phil wouldn’t see the message. Tommy could delete it before he went to bed (he presumed he’d sleep  _ eventually _ ) but for now he wanted to ponder those words. The insecurity in his gut felt tied to his sense of identity, something he tried to reason was  _ normal  _ for a teenager trying to find their place in the world and would logically be intensified for someone doing that with so many people watching his every move. He received enough hate comments saying the contrary, which only fuelled the hormonal imbalance in his brain that already had him doubting himself, and he pulled his legs up to his chest as he curled up on his seat.

If he looked at it logically, he knew he wasn’t a bad person, but it was hard to bring logic into the equation so early in the morning (or late at night) when his emotions were driving the thoughts.

He wondered if he could have delved further into his mind and picked apart at the  _ whys  _ and the  _ hows  _ of his feelings, if he could have solved the problem himself, but it wasn’t an option he was given.

_ Ph1LzA, sent 01:51: You’re brilliant Tommy. Want to chat? _

Oh,  _ shit _ . He hadn’t expected that. Phil was meant to be asleep in his grown up home with his grown up wife, not responding to a message from  _ him _ . Hoping that the man was still half asleep and would doze off quickly enough if he was given the chance, Tommy deleted his message. Wrong choice.

_ Ph1LzA, sent 01:52: I saw that Toms. I’m calling you. _

Tommy recognised that wasn’t a question, so he looked over his shoulder to check his door was shut before putting his headphones over his ears and taking in a deep breath. He wondered if Phil had been expecting a response because for a long moment there was silence, but eventually he heard the familiar chimes of an incoming discord call and let it ring thrice before answering.

“Hey Tommy.” Phil said. He sounded tired, his voice deeper than usual and followed by a yawn. Had he been sleeping? Tommy swallowed back the guilt that came with the thought of waking Phil up at this hour with a problem that would be gone by morning…  _ Probably _ , anyway. 

“Hi Phil.”

He’d been quiet to make sure his parents didn’t hear him calling someone at 2am - waking up Phil was bad enough but waking up his parents was out of the question. Still, he hadn’t expected his voice to sound quite the way it did: hoarse from hours without drinking and shaking with uncertainty. That  _ wasn’t  _ like him at all, and it wasn’t going to help his case.

“Are you alright?”

_ Was there a point in lying? _

“I’m fine.”  _ He’d give it a go _ . “H-How are you?”

“Tommy, with all due respect mate, I don’t think you’d send a message like that at this time of night if everything was fine. D’you want to talk about it?”

There was silence after that, Phil giving Tommy time to process and answer his question. He wondered how long Phil would have stayed silent on the call for - how long he’d have waited for him to make his mind up - and thirty seconds passed before Tommy realised that Phil was going to give him as long as he needed.

“I  _ am  _ fine. It’s just… Y’know... Teenage stuff. Women, mostly.”

“Tommy, it’s just us, you don’t need those walls up right now.”

Phil’s gentle tone made Tommy’s breath hitch in his throat. He’d been operating on autopilot and hadn’t even  _ realised  _ that he’d been scrambling to keep Phil from seeing the truth. He brought a hand to his face, rubbing at tired eyes as he let himself relax before starting to speak again.

“I just feel  _ wrong _ .” He said. Phil didn’t interrupt, so he continued. “It doesn’t happen much, usually I’m chatting with you guys or streaming or doing  _ something  _ to keep myself occupied but sometimes… Sometimes I have a moment to stop, to breathe, and I start thinking. My chest starts to ache and I wonder who I am, I wonder what part of me is real and what I just put on for other people. I wonder if I’m  _ good _ . I don’t mean saving the world from aliens kind of good, I just mean… Am I  _ good _ ? I don’t litter, I don’t smoke, I don’t go to parties and get drunk or play games that’re rated 18 but does that make me  _ good _ ? So many people tell me I’m not, all the time  _ someone  _ doesn’t like me and I get that, it’s the Internet, there’s always going to be someone in the YouTube comments section telling me I’m the worst thing to happen to Humanity since the dawn of time. I don’t care what they think, I just want to know if I’m  _ good _ . But I don’t think I know who I am to start to answer that question.”

He’d rambled,  _ God he’d rambled _ , and as he finished his breath shook as he reached for his water. It was old and he could  _ taste  _ that he’d left the water there from last night, but it would do for now. He wondered if Phil had fallen back to sleep with how long he was quiet, and Tommy sat silently back into his own chair to think quietly when he eventually spoke.

“You are good, Tommy.” He said. “I know what it’s like. I know it’s been a while, but I  _ was  _ a teenager once before. I wasn’t a teenager like you, I can’t imagine growing up with all this attention and all these responsibilities, but I think that contributes to how good you are.” 

There was a pause, and when Phil clocked on to the fact that Tommy was now just listening to what he had to say he continued.

“I’m not here to tell you who you are, I wouldn’t do that to you at 2 in the morning or at 7 in the evening. I can’t help with that part. Learning about who you are is part of growing up and it’s hard but you’ll get there, you’ll figure out who Tommy is. I can tell you that you’re  _ good _ , though. When it’s just us, Wil and Techno you’re fantastic. You’re hilarious, you’re kind, you’re bloody smart too - I don’t know what the hell they teach you these days but you’ve got something to contribute to every conversation. I know that Wil, Techno and me have been friends for a while longer but having you around just makes everything funnier. We all smile a bit longer and laugh a bit harder. And we’re proud of you! You’ve grown so fucking much since we started chatting. When you stream you’re brilliant, you entertain tens of thousands of people across the world every night,  _ live _ , while juggling school work and on top of that you’ve got stuff edited and out on YouTube too for people to watch - and  _ hundreds of thousands of people see that _ ! Tommy, you don’t give yourself enough credit for how hard you work and how successful you are. You’re a good person, you’re a fucking  _ fantastic _ person, and I will tell you that every single day if that’s what you need to hear to get through the shit that is puberty.”

Tommy wasn’t sure what to say. He hadn’t sent that message with the assumption that it would’ve been seen or read, he hadn’t been prepared for such an onslaught of kindness from his friend and as much as he hated to admit it - it  _ had  _ brought tears to his eyes. He held one hand over his mouth, trying to keep himself quiet as they fell slowly down his cheeks and he breathed through a now stuffy nose. 

“Still there?”

“Yeah.” Tommy said, realising that his voice would be muffled and strained so he moved his hand away quickly. “Yeah,  _ still here _ , I just wasn’t really expecting that.”

“You good?”

Sniffling, Tommy nodded. “I’m good.”

“Have you got school in the morning?”

“Yeah. Media studies starts at 9.” 

“Get some sleep, Tommy.” Phil told him. “I can stay on the call if you want, and we’ll all call tomorrow night. I’ll lure Techno out of his MCC headset with potatoes.”

“You don’t need to stay on call, Phil. It’s late.” Tommy said. “The promise of bullying Technoblade tomorrow is good enough for me.”

“I’ll stay until you hang up, then.” Phil replied. “My sofa is comfy and I left biscuits out so I’m happy to stay here as long as you need me. If you want to hear all this again tomorrow too, let me know. I won’t tell the others unless you want me too - if you want us to take a break from poking fun we can. No one will think any less of you.”

“No, it’s fine.” Tommy said, stretching his arms above his head and yawning. The offer itself was kind, but he knew his friends acting differently around him wouldn’t help matters. “Thank you Phil. You’re a really good friend, y’know that right?”

“I’m just doing what I can. If you need anything else just message me again, the volume on my phone is loud enough to wake me for you guys.”

“ _ You guys?  _ What does that mean?” Tommy asked, raising an eyebrow. Despite exhaustion setting into his bones he was feeling - emotionally - like his old self. Winding Phil up at gone 2am felt normal. 

“You, Wil and Techno, I’ve got my ringer all the way up for you guys. You’re my sons for a reason, and I’d be a bit of a shit dad if I couldn’t wake up when you needed me. But, since I  _ did  _ wake up I’m a good dad, and a good dad would tell you to go to bed.”

“Okay Phil. Goodnight.” Tommy said softly. 

“Goodnight Tommy.”

True to his word, Phil didn’t hang up. Tommy eventually moved his cursor over the end call button and dragged himself back to bed, his body feeling heavy and sleep coming to him easily as his head hit the pillow. Phil’s words had filled the hole inside his chest and with his thoughts abated for the time being he could rest peacefully. It was something that, waking up just five hours later, he was  _ very  _ glad of. He didn’t need to be more tired.

As he readied himself for school he saw the few traces of the conversation the two had shared. His headphones were still plugged into his computer and his mic was not in its normal position, and when he moved his mouse discord loaded up. Instead of seeing the few messages from the night before, he had one unread notification from Phil.

_ Ph1Lza, sent 02:47: We love you Tommy, you’re one of our best friends and even if you weren’t a good person, we’d still fucking love you.  _

  
He smiled. No matter what his mind said, he  _ was  _ a good person, and he had brilliant friends that would remind him of it.

**Author's Note:**

> okay to make up for the angst i wrote, here's a speed-ran hurt/comfort one shot being posted at 2am. i hope you can all forgive me for the pain i posted two hours ago! 
> 
> as always, feel free to shout at me below. it's free therapy & comments make me happy so we all win :D thank you for reading!!


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